


Risk Management

by SylvanWitch



Series: Risky Business [2]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: First Date, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanWitch/pseuds/SylvanWitch
Summary: Magnum delivers on the promised private dinner, but dessert doesn't go quite as he'd planned.
Relationships: Gordon Katsumoto/Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV
Series: Risky Business [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603222
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Risk Management

Dinner was a lingering memory of garlic and red wine on the back of his tongue when Magnum suggested that they take their after-dinner scotch out to the beach.

“Aren’t you afraid of being dog chow?” Gordon asked, smiling with one corner of his mouth to show that he was teasing.

“Higgins left the dogs to Kumo’s tender care, so we’re man-eater free tonight,” Magnum answered.

“That’s a shame,” Gordon murmured slyly, moving past Magnum to lead the way across the wide sweep of lawn and down to the beach.

Magnum trailed behind, enjoying the view and trying to convince his dick that flirty innuendo did not a blowjob promise.

Upon taking in the beach blanket and sturdy pillows laid out between two low-burning citronella torches, Gordon raised an eyebrow in Magnum’s direction. 

“Confident, aren’t you?” he observed as he kicked off his shoes to reveal his bare feet.

Magnum found himself momentarily distracted by the delicate blue veins against the pale skin there, remembering himself only after the silence grew a little fraught.

Then he shrugged and offered a smarmy but charming smile: “Can’t blame a guy for trying, right?”

In answer, Gordon tipped his glass in a mock toast and then lowered himself gracefully onto the blanket, stretching out and leaning back against a pillow without spilling a drop.

Magnum watched this maneuver with a knot knuckling him in the breastbone; he felt like he’d eaten too much, though he hadn’t, far too caught up in Gordon’s stories from his academy days, too entranced by the way Gordon swallowed, the expressiveness of his hands as he made a point, the way his face transformed when he laughed full-out. 

Something about Gordon’s easy grace and strength got to him in a way Magnum couldn’t quite explain.

When he had gotten some measure of his control back, Magnum stretched out next to Gordon, careful to leave six inches between them so as not to seem too pushy. He figured the open-air bedroom on the exclusive private beach was enough of a shove in the right direction.

They reclined a while side by side listening to the hush and tumble of the waves. A half-moon traced silver lines farther out, where the breakers lifted themselves out of the ocean to fling themselves at the shore. The air smelled of salt and seaweed, citronella oil, and, when Magnum breathed deeply, Gordon’s aftershave.

He thought about making a move, but before he could act on the thought, Gordon set his drink aside to roll up the sleeves of his ocean-blue shirt. Magnum watched his hands, the deft movements of his strong fingers, until those hands stilled, and he looked up to see that Gordon was watching him right back.

Gordon opened those hands that Magnum had been imagining on him all night.

 _What are you waiting for?_ the gesture said.

Magnum closed the space between them and smiled into the first kiss, tasting scotch on Gordon’s lips and something spicier on his tongue when he opened his mouth to let Magnum in.

Gordon touched Magnum’s shoulder, a gentle prod to signal his intention, and then followed Magnum down onto the blanket, moving his hand to Magnum’s neck, holding him where he wanted him. Magnum opened his mouth wider and made a noise of approval, reaching up to pull Gordon closer.

The first shock of Gordon’s weight against his flank made Magnum gasp, wet and open-mouthed, and throw his head back.

Gordon didn’t waste the opportunity, sucking a mark onto Magnum’s neck and then biting down hard enough to leave a mark, right at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

“Oh,” Magnum said as a full-body shiver rolled through him. “God, Gordy, whatever you want,” he offered, voice gone low and thick.

Lips on the shell of Magnum’s ear, Gordon whispered, “Don’t call me Gordy,” before resuming his exploration of Magnum’s neck.

For his part, Magnum was appreciating the breadth of Gordon’s shoulders and the feel of him hard against Magnum’s thigh. He reached between them, intent on finding out the shape and size of him, wanting the smooth heft of Gordon in his hand, but he got only as far as the placket of Gordon’s jeans when Gordon pulled away, not just his mouth but his whole body, putting inches between them again, saying, “No.”

“What’d I say?” Magnum asked, brain taking its time coming back online; all of his blood had pooled further south.

Gordon shook his head. “Nothing. I just think we need to slow this down. I’m not the kind of guy who gets naked on a first date.”

Magnum, still struggling to adjust his expectations, propped himself up against a pillow and fell back on his favorite kind of deflection, putting on a smirk and saying, “Isn’t this, technically, more like a second date?”

“You count me picking you up from the hospital after you got _shot_ as a date?” There was humor in Gordon’s voice and warmth, too. 

“Well, if you recall, we did make out like teenagers in your car, so…” He looked up from beneath his lashes, flirty and hopeful.

Gordon’s expression didn’t offer much grounds for that hope: “No, Magnum, this isn’t a second date. And besides, I think it’s important to work for what you want. ‘What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly.’”

“Is that a nicer way of talking about cows and free milk?” Magnum wondered.

“It’s Thomas Paine,” Gordon answered, his voice suggesting that Magnum really was the Neanderthal Higgins sometimes claimed him to be.

“Still…?” Magnum prompted.

“If this is just about sex for you—” Gordon began, sounding a little cooler than he had moments before.

“No!” Magnum hastened to say. “No, it’s just…” Here, he resorted to shrugging, unsure how to put into words what he was feeling. He’d thought that he and Gordon had an understanding, that this date was going to be a continuation of what they’d started in Gordon’s car a few days before.

Now, he realized what Gordon’s expectations were, and though Magnum was a champion liar when he had to be, he wasn’t going to lie to himself about this: The idea of being close with Gordon, of knowing him intimately in all the ways that word could mean?

It made the garlic shrimp he’d had for dinner swim in his stomach.

Suddenly aware of the way he’d left Gordon hanging, Magnum resorted again to humor, smiling wickedly and winking like a cartoon villain as he said, “I guess I just thought we’d be having each other for dessert.”

Gordon’s eyes darkened, “We have plenty of time for dessert, Thomas.”

His name from Gordon’s mouth, the way he said it—affection and heat, banked desire…

Magnum cleared his throat and pushed himself to his feet, offering Gordon a hand up. He didn’t let his hand go when Gordon was upright but laced their fingers together and pulled him close, looking him in the eye.

He was suddenly afraid of screwing it all up, and he struggled to find words that meant what he wanted them to.

“You’re worth waiting for,” Magnum said at last. “But for the record, first date or not, I’d definitely respect you in the morning.”

“Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Gordon answered lightly, moving away but not letting go of Magnum’s hand.

They paused to slip on their shoes and then strolled slow and easy across the vast lawn toward the house, which glowed a mellow orange against the dark tropical sky.

The stars lay themselves out overhead, and a gentle breeze blew warm through the palms, which swayed and rustled as if sharing secrets.

At the guest house, Gordon said, “I should go. I’m on call tomorrow morning.”

Magnum squelched his disappointment, understanding duty, though Higgins might be surprised to hear it.

“Thank you for a lovely dinner,” Gordon said, using Magnum’s hand to pull him in for a lingering kiss that Gordon broke off just as it was getting interesting. “I’ll call you. Maybe I could take you to dinner this weekend?”

The weekend seemed a million years off, but Magnum, lips still tingling, the taste of Gordon still on his tongue, only nodded at first and then managed, “I’d like that.” He could feel that he was wearing a goofy grin, and he found he didn’t care, especially when Gordon smiled back, face like a beacon, drawing Magnum toward him.

“Goodnight,” Gordon said softly, at last pulling his hand free.

“Goodnight,” Magnum echoed.

And it was.

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I thought "Risk Assessment" was going to be a one-shot, and then a lovely person commented about wanting the first date, and now it's a five-part series. I'll be posting each part of the series as I finish it, and I promise that it will be completed.


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